A girl can dream

Having just returned from my third work trip to Melbourne in just over a month, I have spent today catching up with housework and writing; while reflecting on the events of the last few days.
On the trip over, my mind was busy with one of my re-occurring thought-circles: what am I doing with my life, am I on the right track? My mood was not improved by the taxing taxi ride from the airport and a delay in checking in to my room.
However, my self-absorbed belly-gazing was quickly dropped after spending a couple of days with a network of dedicated people who are achieving positive outcomes in the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander health workforce sector.

Aside from the work goals set for this week’s trip, I had a simple wish: to experience Melbourne through the eyes of a local. My past visits to this city of shopping, food and coffee have generally been solo, which is a whole different experience. I am not a material-girl, and dining out doesn’t thrill me (coffee I like), so it is little wonder that so far what I have see of Melbourne hasn’t impressed me. Not one to easily give up, I was determined to see a different Melbourne this time.

With the work day over, I ventured out with some colleagues, including three who had at some time in their lives been Melbourne-ites. Driving through the suburbs in a mini-bus, I had footy sites pointed out to me and listened to some tales of past glory (not my thing, but for many Australians footy is sacred). After a nice meal at I Love Dumplings on Bridge Street Richmond, the group split.
Up for adventure, I willing accepted an offer to go on an impromptu history tour; so into the city three of us went. The stories I heard as we stood at the bottom of the Melbourne Library steps were both fascinating and sad; and due to their significance, I will share them in a separate post.

The tour over, we set off for some late night window-shopping; after all, we were in Melbourne. And, surprisingly, I didn’t mind this at all. Making our way to Elizabeth Street, we were soon peering in the windows at some very nice merchandise: Harley Davidson, Triumph, Ducati, BMW and more.
A girl can dream; why should boys have all the fun?

Anyway, the time is approaching that I will once again know that sense of freedom that only a motorbike can grant. In another era, with an active toddler at my feet, I gave up bikes and brought my first car. To soften the blow, I promised myself that I would get back in the saddle on my birthday – in 25 years. And how those years have flown, as that time arrives in exactly ten months from now.
So, back to those windows. Realising how soon The Day was away, this evening of window shopping became less ‘what-if’ and more ‘when’. A reality-check was also needed; for after such a long break I knew that I would need to start slowly (and safely), and find a bike that would suit who I am now. Still, I can ogle the big-boy bikes, even if I know they have too much grunt and weight for me to handle.
It was when we got to the Victory window that I stopped in my tracks: under bright lights, spinning around in the middle of the room was this custom Jackpot. The above picture really doesn’t do this machine justice. Given a make-over by the well-known Ness father and son chop-experts, and with a V-Twin 1731cc motor, this was a sight worth fogging the window for. Alas, this was also a beast that I would never be able to manage.

Returning to my early self-questioning, the ‘what am I doing with my life’/’am I on the right track’: I will probably always ask myself these types of questions, which isn’t a bad thing. However, I need to sometimes remind myself that I am travelling ok, at least for now.
And that I do have some achievable goals set; some practical and a few of a more adventurous type. Like becoming an Indie Author in 2013. And returning to riding the open road (though no longer ‘with the wind in my hair’, as with age comes a greater respect for mortality). The publishing goal requires me to find whatever time I can, then focus and write like crazy. With the bike goal, I have ten months to save some money, and decide what to buy.

If you have been following my travelogue ‘Rooms with a View’, you may be wondering where the next post will be coming from. I would expect it to take an interesting turn away my recent urban-focused posts, as I will be traveling to the very heart of Australia, into the desert.

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7 comments

Blimey, a girl biker! Well I have to hand it to you – you have the spirit of adventure:) When the family grows up it’s almost a new beginning for us Mums – questioning where we are and where we’re going before the grim reaper arrives. I’ll be content with a book or two and some weight loss (okay make that A LOT of weight loss – bad year last year caused rapid expansion of waistline. Groan.)

I was a girl on a bike, a very very long time ago. Like becoming a writer, getting back in the saddle has been a long-held dream of mine. As is getting fitter – not easy for writers (shrinking of the waistline isn’t easy when you sit at a computer for hours) Having had children young, I consider myself to be in an exciting time of life, with plenty of years left for adventure.
Jane, writing a book is like stepping into unknown territory. Not for the faint-hearted – so you too have a sense of adventure.

When I was girl all I dreamt of was being on the stage (I was pretty good too even if I say so myself!) but I married instead.No regrets. But it’s too late for me to tread that path again – even in a amateur way as my two younger boys are serious athletes who train every night/compete – there’s no time in the evenings as I’m the taxi driver. But writing is like a continuation of that dream – it’s almost a natural extension of wanting to create something and to entertain but now I’m the writer creating the characters. When I did act it was quite empowering to be able to move someone – either to laughter or tears. I hope to both with my book. If people read and feel moved I will achieved something I can be truly really proud of.( Hopefully they won’t feel it’s all meaningless tripe as it may come as no surprise there’s quite a lot of silliness in it.))